The Hammock and Atticus Hoy
by forty-two dreams
Summary: Alfie/Atticus drabble. That's about it really.


A haze-addled sunset wrapped itself softly around the back garden of a blue and white country house, miles from the nearest town and indeed the world. Alfie Wickers lay in the hammock next to his best mate Atticus Hoy, feeling every distinct texture as clearly as if it had been burned into his skin: the rope knots on his bare feet, the silk of his friend's golden curls under Alfie's hands, and most prominently the cool droplets of water beading on their bare chests. Atticus felt perfect, his familiar scent calming Alfie even as it set his veins coursing with rivers of exhilarating possibilities. Surely tonight ...

Alfie willed his hands steady as they brushed lazy circles lower and lower against his friend's side. They'd come this far many times in the past, but no farther. He had wondered constantly, sunset upon sunset, if Atticus wanted it, too, or if Alfie was simply being tricked by his own vanity into seeing what was not there.

They were both completely nude. There'd been some flimsy combination of words, some innocent excuse to explain away this state of undress, something about sunbathing or skinny dipping or some such nonsense. The fact was, the combination of proximity and solitude compelled Alfie and Atticus to shed their clothing more often than not. But despite all rumours and all probabilities, they hadn't so much as wanked each other off in fifteen years of friendship. There was only so much homoerotic horseplay one could laugh off, after all.

"Something wrong, Alfie?" asked Atticus.

What a question.

The way he saw it, Alfie stood upon a burning platform. Because the wrong move right now could end all of this forever, just whisk his best friend, and all the rushes of youthful pleasure he entailed, out of Alfie's life for good. But on the other hand, he couldn't take current reality any longer. Thus decided, he drew in his breath and steeled himself.

"I was just thinking," he said. "Do you want ..."

He couldn't bear Atticus' eyes on him.

"Do you want me to suck you off?"

The hammock stopped rocking.

"You mean, like, for a laugh?" said Atticus, a new furrow in his brow.

He should say yes. He should just say yes. Maybe this level of self-delusion could continue indefinitely. Maybe one day they'd have sex "for a laugh", get married "for a laugh", spend the next fifty or sixty years cuddling by a big roaring fireplace together "as a practical joke". But Alfie knew he couldn't be satisfied that way. Because at heart, he was a spoiled rich boy. And rich boys do not take kindly to being told "no". He wanted to HAVE Atticus, full stop, no shame or conditions, to embrace the man he loved and knock any person flat who tried to take him away.

"No, Atticus," he said. "Not for a laugh."

"Well, why, then?" Atticus asked nervously.

"Isn't it obvious?" Alfie groaned.

"Well, no," said Atticus.

He was going to have to spell it out. There was no way Atticus didn't know, but he was going to make Alfie spell it out anyway, just because he could.

Finally, like an angry alarm clock, Alfie Wickers pierced the silence with a very serious confession. "Because I'm attracted to you!"

"What?" said Atticus. "But you aren't gay."

Alfie took his elbows in his hands. "How would you know what I am? I might be bisexual or something. What I know right now is, I want to suck you off. And from the size of your boner right now I'd say it's a safe bet you're attracted to me, too. So let's cut the bullshit and do this."

Atticus sat up sharply. "But that's just the wild mushrooms; you know that. They always make us hard."

Alfie wanted to throw him out of the hammock. "No, you idiot! We made up that nonsense years ago! That isn't a thing mushrooms do! You know what makes us hard? Sexual arousal!"

Atticus chuckled a mirthless chuckle. "Huh," he said. "I never thought about it that way. Could we be bent for each other?" He paused. "I wonder how we could find out?"

Like a shot, Alfie leaned over to kiss Atticus: a real, grown-up kiss full of purpose. Unfortunately his lips made contact right around the time both of them hit the ground.

"We'd better go inside and do this properly," said Atticus, laughing.

Alfie nodded. He'd been waiting to do things properly for a long, long time.


End file.
